To be Lost, Losing, and Lost
by InformalSpoofer
Summary: It's a joke, Daniel. Not my story. In which Rorschach finds another reason not to sleep and Dan tries to comfort him. Pre-Roche. Nite Owl II/Rorschach.


To be Lost, Losing, and Lost

"You're being awfully quiet tonight," Dan ventured, fiddling with Archie's controls aimlessly. Rorschach never responded well to being in the spotlight, especially when any 'weakness' was involved. Better safe than sorry and without a partner for God-knows-how-long.

Rorschach grunted and pulled a sugar cube out of his pocket.

Dan glanced at the time on Archie's screen. 3:42. The last time Rorschach had said more than three words was 11:55, and it had been dull in the city tonight. Usually by now Rorschach was detailing theories about crime syndicates and conspiracies, the calm monotone of his voice nearly as constant as Archie's engines. Dan fiddled with his goggles, switching the view to thermal just because he could. When he looked at Rorschach, the man was brilliant orange down to his fingertips and Dan cringed.

"I mean," he decided to try again, "if there's something on your mind." Rorschach popped the sugar cube in his mouth and looked at him. "Uh. You can talk to me, man. We're partners." He fiddled with the goggles again, turning them off. He was half-tempted to leave them off, but despite his trust in Rorschach he didn't feel comfortable not being able to watch him, especially when he was in a mood like this.

When he flicked the goggles back on, Rorschach was turned away. Dan swallowed. "If…if it's something to do with your - your, well, home life, you can leave out the details." He glanced out the window and missed the subtle tensing of Rorschach's shoulders. The soft crinkle of the sugar cube's wrapper being pushed into Rorschach's pocket was his only answer. "I mean -"

"Daniel." Rorschach adjusted his fedora and didn't say any more.

Dan waited, flicking Archie's shields on and off. He waited until 3:55 for Rorschach to continue, but the most the other mask did was fold his arms across his chest. _Well, shit._ "You can _talk_ to me," Dan said, chest feeling oddly tight. He knew he sounded pathetic, but every time Rorschach did this - thankfully, it wasn't often - it felt like a piece of their relationship was warped. Just enough to make Dan waste time at night wondering if he would see Rorschach again, if maybe he was on the edge of something, something intangible and inhuman and _Christ._ "Rorschach, I don't -"

"Wife left me," Rorschach said, slowly turning to Daniel. Dan's heart stopped and his jaw dropped. "Took our child out to alleyway, stabbed her seven times. She kept screaming 'Never should have trusted you, never should have trusted you!' Blood spattered in alleyway; she left the carcass hanging over dumpster."

Daniel felt sick. "_Jesus_, Rorschach. I - I'm sorry, I -"

"It's a joke, Daniel," Rorschach said, but his voice was tight with bitterness. "That is not my story. It's neighbor's. Now do you understand?"

Daniel swallowed back the bile in his throat, thinking he understood even _less_. He hated when Rorschach pulled stunts like this. "Rorschach, I don't…"

"I slept while it happened, Daniel. Right outside my window, and." He stopped, didn't go on for a long time. His fists clenched in his lap. Dan's hands shook against the wheel, trying to banish the image in his mind, trying to focus on the time, but it was blurred too much to read. "Daniel. She was four years old. She ate black licorice. Black. Her cheek."

Daniel stood and laid a hand on Rorschach's shoulder, squeezing, struggling to reconcile the image of Rorschach interacting with a child with the image of Rorschach breaking drunk men's fingers. "It's okay," he said lamely, knowing it wasn't.

"Her cheek," Rorschach repeated softly, "was blue and yellow with bruises. And I slept. What's the point, Daniel? I feel like a bottle out at sea, essentially useless - she screamed, Daniel, and I slept right through it."

"It's not your fault," Daniel soothed, squeezing Rorschach's shoulder harder. "Okay? You can't save everyone, man. Do you remember that guy who was getting mugged -"

"That's not the _point_, Daniel." Rorschach turned his face up to him, and through all the layers between them, Dan felt him shaking. "It - I don't. I haven't felt. _Daniel._" He grabbed Daniel's wrist and squeezed, then twisted it away and rose to his feet, stalking away. He prowled along the edges, stuffing his fists in his pockets.

"Don't let this eat you up," Daniel said, knowing how inadequate the words were. "You just have to keep fighting. For her. For all the people we can't help."

"Take Archimedes down," Rorschach ordered stiffly.

"So you can run away?"

"So I can make a _difference,_" Rorschach challenged, stopping his pacing and facing Dan. "So I can replace this with the fire of justice. Land the ship, Daniel," he said, voice heavy with threat but posture still withdrawn. "Don't want to sit and think. I want to _act._"

They faced each other, Rorschach rocking on his feet, Daniel feeling a little insane and oddly grounded and stubborn as hell. "That's not what you need," he said, and before Rorschach could react he closed the distance between them and crushed Rorschach in a hug.

"_Don't!_" Rorschach screamed, more out of surprise than anger, and he thrashed against him. "Daniel, _don't_, I don't des - take me down. Daniel." Dan kept his eyes shut, using his height and weight to his advantage. He pinned Rorschach against the wall and waited, ignoring the kicks and scratches and curses, patient. When Rorschach finally went still, he was panting like a wild animal, hands braced against the wall, head rolled back. His fedora was slanted back, still resting on his head but only barely.

"It's okay," Daniel soothed. Rorschach said nothing for a long time, relaxing into Daniel's arms in tiny increments until his face was tense against his shoulder. His hands remained at his sides, but they were no longer fists, and that alone was enough of a miracle. Daniel almost started to speak again, but as the words found their way to his throat he realized that the silence was too heavy, that his moment to say the right thing was gone. He wondered when it happened.

Rorschach's mouth worked through the layers between them and tingles erupted down Daniel's spine, surprising him. He leaned his head to the side without thinking and Rorschach moved his face closer in - Daniel realized then that he was _speaking_, not kissing (of _course_ not kissing), but his voice was so soft that he couldn't discern the words.

"Daniel," Rorschach said. Dan tried not to shiver, guilt pooling in his gut. He didn't let go, and Rorschach leaned against him.

"Y-yeah?" Landing Archie sounded like a good idea, suddenly, because God, if his body chose _now_ of all times to react, Rorschach would never forgive him. Hell, Dan wouldn't forgive _himself_, but he could feel Rorschach's mouth open against his neck and it was the most intimate sensation the world had ever offered him.

Something in the moment broke and Dan could feel Rorschach's teeth clench through the mask. He pushed Daniel away without energy or vehemence, calm and measured. "Bad decision to tell you. Land Archie. There's still plenty of time to clean the streets."

"I'm glad you did," Dan said truthfully, rubbing a wrist. A distinct lack of accomplishment made him feel uneasy and disgusted with himself. Rorschach turned away and adjusted the lapels of his coat. "Really."

Rorschach remained resolutely silent, hands smoothing down over his clothes to straighten them out, brushing at them like the essence of the contact could be physically removed.

Dan turned away. He might as well bring them down, he thought bitterly. Apparently violence _was_ what Rorschach needed. He steered Archie low over corporate buildings before choosing one adjacent to one of their patrol routes, trying not to think about how little he'd managed to help Rorschach.

When they finally landed, however, Rorschach paused at the door, adjusting his gloves.

"What is it?" Dan asked behind him, not sure what to expect (Rorschach's distaste and anger and everything that could go wrong running through his mind).

Rorschach hesitated, lingering over his gloves. When he turned, body angling towards Dan, his face remained forward. Somehow, it was the most inviting gesture Rorschach had given that night, and when he spoke, it was with the nervous sincerity of someone not used to the words. "Thank you."


End file.
